


Too Close

by kristsune



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, and helps so much, cameo by NJ, killer is so steady, my precious pilot that loves to hang out in the medbay, stick does not handle things well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-13 20:30:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11767785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kristsune/pseuds/kristsune
Summary: Poke gets hurt, and Stick does not handle things well.





	Too Close

**Author's Note:**

> Just a thing I had to write for my tattoo artist/medic husbands. Killer belongs to [ Jesse ](http://thebisexualmandalorian.tumblr.com/) <3

It was quiet, the battle was over, now the wounded needed tending, Stick looked up from his most recent casualty; the shiny was going to make it, but with a nasty scar in his shoulder. He turned to check in with Poke, but he wasn’t right behind him where he had last been. They  _ never  _ got separated on the battlefield, not far, not without checking in first. 

Didn’t mean anything bad happened, couldn’t have. Not to Poke. Someone must have pulled him away.

Stick started searching around where he had last seen him. Poke was okay. He was fine, just because he couldn’t find him didn’t mean anything. 

Minutes that felt like hours went by, and Stick’s pulse was rising, panic sticking in his throat. 

There. A flash of brightly painted armor, that could only be Poke. Stick slid in the slippery mixture of blood and mud, and pulled off the droid that was half on top of his husband. There was a crack in his visor, and blood leaking from a hole in the side of his armor.

“Poke,  _ cyare _ , can you hear me?” Stick gently pulled off Poke’s helmet. He was still breathing, but it didn’t sound good. Stick ripped off his glove to try and take a pulse, but could barely find it.

“No no no no no. Stay with me, riduur. Don’t leave me,  _ please _ .” Stick was not above praying -  _ begging _ \- to all the little gods to keep Poke alive. 

He needed to get Poke to the medbay  _ now _ . He gently picked Poke up in his arms, hoping he wasn’t doing any more damage, but he couldn’t wait any longer.

Stick only remembered snatches of the walk from the field to the transport, and transport to medbay. He distantly remembered someone trying to take Poke from him. It did not go over well, he  _ might _ have growled, but he honestly couldn’t remember. Or maybe he just didn’t  _ want _ to. 

He  _ did _ remember the look on Killer’s face when he walked into the medbay, Poke still wrapped in his arms, leaving a trail of blood behind him. His face looked like all the air got punched out of his lungs, like he couldn’t  _ breathe _ . He looked a lot like Stick felt. 

The biggest difference was, that Killer snapped out of it quickly and got to work; pulling off Poke’s armor with practiced ease, as soon as Stick set him down. After the initial check, with a med droid prepping for surgery, he came over to look at Stick. 

Stick started, already agitated and aggressive, “I’m fine.  _ Please _ , just take care of Poke.”

“Poke is absolutely my priority, but you are  _ not _ fine. I need you to - “

“- _ I’m not leaving him _ .” Stick growled out, interrupting Killer.

Killer looked patient as he held up his hand, “I know you won’t leave him, but  _ please _ , sit the kriff down before you pass out. I don’t need to be picking you off the floor while in the middle of operating on Poke.

Stick leaned back, and slid down the wall he was closest too, resting his head in his hands. “I’m sorry, Kil’ika.” 

Killer rested a hand on Stick’s arm for a moment before he gloved up. “It’s alright. Just, try and rest, okay? I’ll keep you updated.”

Stick looked up to see the worry etched into Killer’s face, “Thank you. Just.  _ Please _ . Help him.” 

“I will, promise.” 

\-------

Stick jumped from where he was seated on the floor, his head resting between his bent knees. He hadn’t been asleep, but he hadn’t been entirely  _ awake _ either. 

Killer was crouched down in front of him, hand on his shoulder. “Is he okay?” Stick would normally hate how his voice wavered, but he didn’t have the energy to care. 

Killer gave him a half smile, but it came out more of a grimace. “It was really close there for awhile, and he’s still not completely out of danger, but he’s mostly stable.”

Stick let out a watery laugh, and was not ashamed of the tears that slipped down his cheeks. 

“Can I sit with him?” Stick’s voice was hoarse.

“How about I help you clean up, and get some food, then you can, okay?” Killer’s voice was soft, understanding, but he was not above bribery to get Stick to take care of himself.

Stick looked in the direction where he knew Poke was. Killer gently turned his head making him look at him in his eyes, “We won’t go far, promise. I’ll even have food brought to us, so we don’t have to leave the medbay, alright? No one is using the ‘fresher we’ve got here.”

Stick wanted to argue, wanted to see his riduur  _ now _ , but he knew Killer wouldn’t back down, no matter how polite he was being. He nodded, and let Killer help him stand. The quicker they got through this, the quicker he could be with Poke.

He almost passed out in the fresher, but he was able to hide it by leaning a hand against the wall. Apparently he didn’t do a good enough job, because Killer came over to help him clean up. Washing the blood, sweat, and dirt out of his hair for him. 

He wasn’t quite sure when he started crying, but Killer was there; wiping away his tears, and shushing him. There when Stick’s knees gave out, holding him tight so he didn’t fall to the ground. Running his hand through his wet hair, allowing Stick to hold on strong enough that he would leave bruises. 

“It should have been me. He’s so much better than me. I’m still standing here while he could have  _ died _ , could  _ still _ die.” Stick could barely breath through the tears. 

Killer held him close as the water ran over the both of them, “It’s okay, Bev’ika. He’s going to be okay. You got to him in time. He’ll make it. He’s strong.”  

Killer turned off the water once it started to go cold. Stick was shivering as Killer dried him off, and not just from the water. Killer did a brief check over him as he helped him into a clean set of the red off duty clothes. 

After NJ, bless the vod, brought some clear broth for Stick, after he finished it, Killer allowed him to sit with Poke. 

It was like all of the strings that had been holding Stick up since he found Poke injured had been cut. He sagged into the chair, eyes barely staying open, and took Poke’s hand in his to wait for him to wake up.

\-------

The first thing Poke tried to do when he woke up was warn Stick. Droids were sneaking up on their six. Instead he gasped out loud when he tried to move, his side and chest were in agony. 

But Stick was already right there next to him, “Udisii, riduur. You’re alright. Just lie back.” 

“What in the nine hells happened?” Poke groaned, relaxing as Stick instructed.

“I’m not entirely sure, but you got a blaster bolt to the side, couple broken ribs, which decided to puncture your insides, and if that weren’t enough, you also got a minor head wound and concussion.”

Poke looked up at Stick’s strained voice. He looked like hell, he had obviously been to the fresher somewhat recently, (he probably had Killer to thank for that) but his hair was still a tangled mess, and there were deep shadows under his eyes like he got when he hadn’t slept in over a few days. Shit.

“How long have I been out?” Poke asked.

“Almost a standard week since I found you on the battlefield.” 

Poke squeezed Stick’s hand, “I’m sorry Bev’ika.”

Stick’s face broke a little, “You’ve got nothing to apologize for, Po’ika. I’m just glad you’re  _ alive _ .”

Poke lifted his hand to rest along Stick’s temple. Stick closed his eyes and rested his head on Poke’s lap, asleep almost instantly, “Me too, cyare, me too.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Mando'a   
> riduur - husband  
> udisii - relax/be calm  
> cyare - beloved


End file.
